


Brat

by orphan_account



Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:28:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24090589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Reeve finds out about Vincent from Veld.
Relationships: Reeve Tuesti & Veld, Reeve Tuesti/Veld, Vincent Valentine/Veld
Kudos: 28





	Brat

**Author's Note:**

> Don't really ship Reeve/Veld in a sexual relationship, but can see them casually doing stuff on occasion. It's been left deliberately vague for interpretation. I do however definitely ship Vineld. So...
> 
> Totally inspired to do this by Drakonlily and Sanguinesaint

“Have you got a light by any chance?” Reeve looked back over his shoulder to Veld, who had decided to pull out a book and was sitting up in the bed like he hadn’t a care in the world.

“…Jacket, breast pocket.” He sounded distracted.

There was a raised eyebrow at the answer, Reeve had not been expecting that at all. Then again, a lot of things to do with Veld he had not expected. Foraging into the other man’s jacket he pulled out a square silver engraved lighter with a mild ‘aha!’ before shuffling over to the window and cracking it open.

“Pick up your socks, Reeve.” Veld warned, just as Reeve sparked up. The old dog had serious behemoth with stray socks on his floor. He grimaced a reply, “I will, just… give me a few minutes? Please?” and with that he inhaled a long drag of the cigarette, feeling a pleasurable burst of nicotine at the back of his throat.

“ _Now_ , Reeve.” There was a sound of a page turning, “You really want to end up like your Father?” Reeve sighed, joylessly stubbed out the cigarette and turned to pick up his socks, “There’s nothing wrong with my Da.”

He could not help it if that came about a bit snippier then intended as grumpily he sat down and pulled one on. 

“Not unless you count wheezing from walking to the front door.”

Reeve frowned, second sock pulled up and snapped against his calf. At least he had not got to the suspenders stage. Unlike someone else he knew.

It took a moment for him to figure it out, though after all they had just done, it was hardly surprising. He slipped out the lighter again and looked at it, “Veld, why do you have a lighter if you don’t smoke?”

“Incendiary ignition, light source, brats. Several reasons.” The older man was still reading but there was something distinctly _off_ somehow.

“Brats?” Reeve queried, somewhat against his better judgment. Veld could be damned scary when he wanted to be.

“You asked me.” Veld placed his book to one side, face entirely unreadable. “Brats, like I said.”

Reeve’s thumb was idly rubbing over the engraving on the lighter. He shouldn’t, very much should not, but he had to; curiosity and all that, “Brats with the initials V.V.?”

Veld was like granite. Moments passed and Reeve felt like he could hardly breathe just from the non-look upon Veld’s face. This was a bad idea, bad idea, bad idea!

Veld picked his book back up. Flicking the pages over to where he left off he answered, “Biggest punk ass brat there was.”

Reeve took a deep breath, swallowing tightly.

“My partner, Vincent Valentine.”

Vincent Valentine. A name that scored itself into Reeve’s consciousness on that night. A name that revealed files of a lean raven-haired young man with crimson eyes. A name of a distant memory and new realities. A name that came to represent a man who would be needed. A name of a friend.

“Vincent _Valentine_? No wonder you started calling Turks by code.”


End file.
